


All of a Sudden It's Me on the Outside

by orphan_account



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, this probably isn't obvious but it's implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Life is gig after gig, show after show, set after set. It's a life John could live a million times over.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	All of a Sudden It's Me on the Outside

Arthur isn’t like anyone John’s ever seen before. 

Arthur isn’t like Dutch - older, wiser, the kind of man that makes you put all your blinded faith in him without ever really questioning why. A record producer turned manager, slicked-back hair and well-groomed, peering down at John with disinterest as John tells him how well he can sing, how he can play guitar - he can play Psycho Killer or-or Anarchy in the U.K. or - and he knows how to play the keyboard. 

That he and his friend, Javier - who's really good on bass and rhythm, but can play a little bit of the drums too - started up a band, but not really, and played in their high school talent show a couple of years back and won. 

Arthur isn’t like Sean - younger than John by a couple of years, unrestrained and rowdy. Red, long hair that's as vivid as his energy, as his temper, and hangs around his face in curtains in a way similar to the way John wears his. Dutch introduces Sean to John and Javier after Arthur comes along, claims he’s the best damn drummer he’s ever known, and damn if he isn’t. 

Sean uses all his energy on the drums, can create any rhythm imaginable. He’s from Donegal, so he’s got this accent that the girls love, and he wears these tight-fitted t-shirts that he’s ripped holes in himself and baggy, cargo pants and he just looks _badass._

Arthur isn’t like Lenny - who was introduced to the group through Arthur, who played bass like Paul fucking McCartney, and fit the boy-next-door type of addition they needed but didn’t know they needed. He’s just about as mischievous as Sean, but Arthur says he’s got a good head on his shoulders, and he does - that’s the thing about Lenny. He’s probably got more sense than all of them put together but it doesn’t take much for Sean to talk him into getting into trouble. 

Arthur is someone that John could fall in love with, a fucking schoolboy crush disguised as simple respect and admiration. Arthur was the first addition, being old friends with Dutch and the lead guitarist they needed, Dutch talked him up from the start. He didn’t disappoint, either. A real James Dean but more burly, more broad-shouldered, more blonde and hair a bit shaggier. 

Arthur _is_ someone John falls in love with, from the second Dutch is guiding him into the cramped little garage of the small rental home he and Javier room together in. Dutch has a hand clamped down on Arthur’s shoulder, a cigar in the other, and he’s smiling. “Boys, meet your new lead guitarist.” 

John takes one look at Arthur and he feels like he can’t fucking breathe. 

All that shit Dutch talks about what makes a band successful, about sex embodied, raw and aggressive attitudes, the kind of guys every girl dreams about taking home to her parents but never would. Arthur’s every single of one those, he’s _it_ he’s -

“What _is_ this? Dutch, you said these guys were amateurs but -” Arthur’s expression reads skeptical, disappointed. John stands a little straighter as a move of defense, opens and closes his mouth like a fish cause he’s got something to say but he doesn’t quite know what yet.

“Yes, but they’ve got _potential_ , Arthur. A little faith never hurt anybody.” 

John feels like he’s back in high school, practicing for the talent show. 

\- -

John feels like he’s on top of the world, like he’s a king and the stage in this underground bar in Armadillo is his throne.

With the addition of Arthur, with the addition of Sean, of Lenny - John gets promoted to lead singer and keyboardist (when the song calls for it). 

John’s life is shitty motels, rooms with two beds, all five of them crammed together. Riding in the back of Sean’s van as they go from gig to gig, trying to make sure the band equipment doesn’t get slung around. Bright lights and small stages and bars crowded with people, the smell of sweat and beer and vomit. 

Arthur’s eyes staring back into his own when they share a microphone, enough to get him as high as the hippie weed they share between sets. 

His head propped against Arthur’s shoulder, asleep, in the back of Javier’s ‘67 Blue Impala on the way to Annesburg. Arthur’s thigh between his legs, pushed up against the wall around the back of some live music bar in Saint Denis. The curve of Arthur’s smile, warm against his skin, in his own hotel room back in Strawberry that he scraped together to afford. 

They don’t talk about it. They don’t talk about a lot of things. 

Like how Arthur ducks out of the room to use the phone in Lenny’s room to call his fiancee back home. Like how he doesn’t say it’s Mary he’s calling but John knows that’s who it is. 

They never talk about it. 

Arthur comes back and his lips are against John’s again. His hands in John’s hair again. 

What’s there to talk about?

Dutch says they’re gonna be big, they’re gonna be bigger than the Rolling Stones, and John believes him. 

Arthur says he loves him, doesn’t so much say it as he shows it with gentle touches and eager kisses, and John believes him.


End file.
